Defied Three Times
by Meteoricshipyards
Summary: What if Dumbledore was wrong about the people the prophecy applied to?


**Disclaimer: **These things belong to JKR, not me. Too bad.**  
**

**Defied Three Times**

Jane Abbott got up from the table where she had been going over the books. Running a Laundry in Diagon Alley -- actually, anywhere in the wizarding world -- was a dicey business. But only the Claybornes, her maiden name, had the knowledge of the spells that would clean and repair silk, and a few more of the delicate, natural fabrics. The repair spell also worked on invisibility cloaks. An invisibility cloak wasn't much good if it had a visible repair on it, although she had heard people mumbling about "only using it at night" when they wouldn't or couldn't pay for a correct repair.

Invisibility cloaks were on her mind as she opened the package from Jim Potter. What did that man do to have to have this thing repaired so often! He must be involved in the war against the Dark Lord. She hoped he was on the Light side! She'd never thought of that before. She'd have to ask her friend Jenny Bones' sister Amilia, the "Auror Captain" (oooo!), and make sure she wasn't aiding the enemy.

She tossed the cloak into the storage room, locked it, and took the package she "had to" mail to Narcissa Malfoy. If it weren't for the outrageous additional charge for "rush," she wouldn't have anything to do with that woman. She locked the shop and started towards the post office when a voice yelled at her.

"Wait! You must not close!"

She sighed tiredly. "Pardon me, sir, but I must get to the post office before they close."

"You will fix my robes now!"

She looked at the tall, thin, black-robed man. His hood was up, obscuring his face, but she got the impression that his skin was very pale. In his hands was a black silk robe with very dark green snakes on it. There was a curse burned hole in it.

"Sir, I will be happy to help as soon as I return from the post office."

"You will not defy me!"

She hurried away, knowing that nothing good would be accomplished if she stayed. "I'll be back in three minutes!" She knew he would be there. There was no one else in the wizarding world who could repair that robe. And the quality of that robe told her "money!"

As expected the tall man was still waiting. She re-opened the shop and followed him in. She examined the robes and quoted him a price that she would have charged the Malfoys.

"Yes, yes, whatever. You must work on it right away!"

"I will sir. It will take me two hours. Do you want to go get something to eat? I can hand deliver these to you anyplace in the Alley?"

"I will wait!"

"Very good sir. There are some magazines in the rack there. I'll be in the back. But I have to warn you, any interruption will only increase the amount of time the repair will take."

"Fine, fine!"

She had hardly set the robes out when her customer yelled, "Where is the _Daily Prophet_!"

She returned to the front room. "Sir, I find the so-called news in that rag to be of dubious worth. At least the _Quibbler_ has an entertainment value. But I apologize for not having a copy of the _Prophet_ for you. I'll just return to fixing your robes."

"I demand a copy!"

"If I go get one, it will delay the time the robes are ready. Which is more important to you?"

"I need those robes tonight! But I want a copy of the _Prophet_!"

"I'll get right to work on your robes. Perhaps you can find a vendor in the Alley?" She disappeared into the back room. Some customers! And always the richest. Making conflicting demands! She got back to work.

Two hours later she appeared with the robes.

"Here you go sir. Damage repaired, robes cleaned and pressed. I even removed the lipstick from the hem. Not sure if I want to know how that got there, but here you go."

Lord Voldemort took the robes from this annoying shopkeeper and looked forward to her death.

"Here's your bill, sir. I don't know if you've been a customer here before, but I must warn you about that repair spell. It's guaranteed for five years, and for my life. If, by some chance I should die, the spell will unravel. At that point, if it's within five years, my estate will refund your money. A quirk of the spell that nearly bankrupted my great grandfather, but what are you going to do? It's magic."

Voldemort kept his rage and disappointment to himself. Some day he would kill this annoying person, but not today. He paid the bill and left. As she was putting away the money he cast a spell on the pregnant woman. He wondered where the birthmark would show up? He hoped it would be someplace disfiguring. It was a small, mean thing to do, but it made him feel better.

As expected, Jane thought, he didn't leave a tip.

She locked up, and went home.

- - -

"And your sure, Healer Casey, that these are the only children scheduled to be born in the latter part of July?"

"Yes, Headmaster. That's all I know about."

"Thank you. Someday, I hope to explain just how important this is."

- - -

"John! It's time."

"Jane? Now? But you're not due for three weeks!"

"I did warn you that the Clayborne women like to speed these things up."

"Does your family lore say anything about 2 am?"

"No, that's just standard. Most women go into labor at 2 am."

- - -

"Hello, Abbott."

"Hello, Potter."

"Beautiful baby!"

"Thanks. She's just perfect. That one is Longbottom's. Are you supposed to have one up here?"

"He's coming. Will probably be a few more hours."

As he was talking, little Hannah started to fuss. John Abbott looked at his little girl with love, and said, "I'm sorry, Hannah, but I'm not the one that feeds you. I'm the one who changes your diaper."

Potter looked horrified, and said, "If you ever say that in the presence of my wife, I'll hex you into next year!"

"Oh, get over it, Potter," he said, good naturedly. "You'll get used to it. And you be patient, Snake-tush."

"Snake-tush?"

"Yeah, she has this big birthmark on her bum. Looks like a snake. I suppose there are other places something like that would be rather disfiguring. But no matter. We'll we're checking out shortly. Good luck with your little one."

"Thanks, Abbott."

- - -

Dumbledore entered the maternity ward and looked at the two babies. Longbottom and Potter. Both had parents who had defied Voldemort three times. Which one would be his downfall, he wondered.


End file.
